


Nothing More Than What We Have Now

by Ren



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-09-08 16:11:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8851462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ren/pseuds/Ren
Summary: "Just kiss me," Yuri murmurs against Otabek's lips.

  Otabek's whole body is drawn tight with want. "It's never just kissing with you."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again to Evy for the excellent beta help and for listening to my rambles. You're the best!
> 
> I actually really like the headcanon that these two would wait until Yuri is older before having sex, but you know how it is. Some of us have to keep hell warm. (Not sorry.)

When Yuri's hand starts making its way towards Otabek's belt, Otabek has to stop pretending he hasn't noticed what's happening.

"Yura," he huffs, wrapping his fingers around Yuri's wrist to still him. "Don't."

Yuri pouts. "Why not?"

He's stretched like a cat over Otabek's chest, so they're pressed together from shoulder to ankle. It feels very nice and very frustrating at the same time, and Otabek has spent the last hour trying not to go out of his mind.

"You know why," he says, in a tightly controlled voice.

"No, I don't." Yuri leans down until their lips are almost touching, and smirks. "Age of consent is sixteen in both Russia and Kazakhstan, and in case you forgot, I _am_ sixteen."

Barely sixteen, Otabek wants to say, but he doesn't have the moral high ground any more. Not since the first time Yuri pushed him down on the bed, hands trembling and eager, and Otabek had let him do all he wanted with only a token protest. Because, when it comes to Yuri Plisetsky, Otabek is consistently bad at saying no.

Yuri kisses him, teasing the seam of Otabek's lips with his tongue. He tastes like chapstick and something undefinable that's uniquely him. Otabek sighs, wrapping one hand around the back of Yuri's head, burying his fingers in his soft hair. Yuri takes advantage of his momentary weakness to push his tongue into Otabek's mouth, deepening the kiss until they're both out of breath.

When Yuri pulls back, breaking the kiss, Otabek almost rises from the mattress trying to follow him. Then he catches sight of Yuri's grin and falls back down, head hitting the pillows with a soft thump.

"Yura," Otabek exhales. "Your grandfather is in the other room."

Yuri glances towards the closed door of his room, then shrugs one slender shoulder. Otabek stares as Yuri's oversized t-shirt slides down, exposing an inch of pale collarbone. "It's fine, Grandpa always falls asleep in front of TV. And I'm bored."

Otabek drags his eyes away from the line of Yuri's throat until they're looking into each other's eyes. "If you're bored, we can… uh…" He swallows. "We can play a video game, or watch–"

"Just kiss me," Yuri murmurs against Otabek's lips.

Otabek's whole body is drawn tight with want. "It's never just kissing with you." Even though he holds himself very still, he can't help the way his voice has gone low and gravelly.

Yuri shifts above him, knee brushing the inside of Otabek's thigh. "Good."

"Yura…"

"I missed you," Yuri says. Not whining, not teasing, just stating a fact. His green eyes are staring down Otabek with the same intensity they have on the ice.

"I missed you too," Otabek replies, and that's when he gives in. It's been only a few weeks, but between practice, a national competition, and an exhibition match, Otabek feels as if he's barely had time for breathing, let alone a long-distance relationship. He's missed Yuri something fierce, more than he could have thought possible.

Their lips brush together, almost tentatively. Yuri nips at Otabek's lower lip and, when he shifts, his hips press fully against Otabek's groin. Otabek growls, low in his throat.

"Sorry!" Yuri exclaims. "Am I crushing you?" He braces one arm against the mattress, taking his full weight off Otabek.

"It's fine." Otabek wants to say that he likes being pinned under Yuri, loves the feeling of Yuri's body against him, warm and solid and unbelievably his.

But Yuri has been struggling with his growth spurt lately. Any mention of his growing body is enough to set him on edge, reminding him that he's already slowly but surely losing his childish flexibility. It's a constant race to adapt his routines to his longer, heavier frame. Otabek knows what that's like, since he's gone through the same not long ago, so he doesn't say anything.

Instead, Otabek puts his hands on Yuri's hips, fingers skimming the skin above the hem of Yuri's sweatpants. He helps Yuri keep his balance while Yuri takes off his shirt with one fluid movement.

Otabek props himself up on one elbow and places a kiss on Yuri's chest. He lingers there, eyes half-closed, feeling Yuri's heartbeat against his lips.

Yuri's fingers tangle in Otabek's hair, tugging his head back so they can kiss again. Otabek runs his hands up Yuri's back, feeling the muscles shift under the skin as Yuri presses his naked chest against him.

Otabek could spend all day like this, trading lazy open-mouthed kisses, but Yuri is already tugging at his clothes, peeling off his shirt. When Yuri pops open the button of his jeans, Otabek glances away, hiding a blush. He's already hard in his boxers; he's a healthy teenager and Yuri has spent the past hour all but grinding against him.

Otabek lifts his hips so Yuri can push his jeans down his thighs, breath stuttering as the fabric slides roughly against his cock. His breath is coming out too fast. He presses the palm of his hand against his mouth to muffle a whimper as Yuri touches him through his boxers. His jeans are still in the way. Otabek struggles to take them off, despite Yuri's attempts to drive him crazy by wriggling against him. He bites back a gasp as his cock twitches under Yuri's touch.

"Beka," Yuri moans, rocking against him. He's panting quietly, his breath hot against Otabek's cheek.

Finally, Otabek manages to get out of his jeans. He kicks them aside and they fall off the side of the bed, landing with an audible thud. They both freeze for a second – Otabek can't hear anything above the pounding of his frantic heartbeat – but the house is silent save for the distant sounds of TV.

With a sigh of relief, Otabek leans against Yuri and closes his eyes. It's so hard to be quiet when he feels like screaming Yuri's name.

Yuri's lips press against Otabek's. "Beka," he says again, more insistent.

Otabek's eyes snap open as Yuri pushes him down on the mattress. Yuri's knee presses hard between Otabek's legs, and Otabek has to bury his face against Yuri's shoulder to muffle a groan. He presses a biting kiss against Yuri's collarbone.

"Hey, no visible marks." Yuri swats Otabek's side, but his voice is soft.

Otabek closes his eyes and breathes in the smell of sweat and skin. "You're driving me mad."

"S-same." Yuri wraps his arms around Otabek, holding him close.

It's almost too much, suddenly, the feeling of Yuri's bare skin pressing against him. Otabek groans again, bucking against Yuri.

Everywhere they touch, from their chests to their ankles, Otabek's skin is thrumming with anticipation. He moves slowly, lifting his head until his forehead is leaning against Yuri's, their noses brushing together. Yuri's hands are wrapped tightly around his shoulders; Otabek's hands press against the small of Yuri's back, pulling their groins together.

Their erections brush against each other. Even through layers of clothing, Otabek can feel Yuri's hardness straining the fabric of his briefs.

Yuri's eyes flutter closed and he lets out a choked moan. "Please, Beka… I…"

His voice is so low, Otabek doesn't catch the rest of the words. He lifts one hand to Yuri's face, brushing back his hair, tracing the sharp line of his cheekbone. "What is it?" he murmurs. "Tell me…"

Yuri glances at him from under his eyelashes. A blush is spreading all over his face. "I want–" He swallows, briefly turning away before looking at Otabek head on. "I want you inside me."

All air rushes out of Otabek's lungs. "Yes," he says before even thinking. Then he takes a deep, shaky breath. "If you're sure."

"I'm sure." Yuri's eyes look almost feverish. "It's all I could think about when you weren't here. I need you to touch me."

"I _am_ touching you." Otabek trails the line of Yuri's spine, then moves further down to palm one pert buttock.

Yuri's breath stutters. "It's not enough," he moans, even as he arches into Otabek's touch, grinding against his thigh. "I need more."

Otabek kisses him, muffling the delicious sounds Yuri is making.

More – how typical of Yuri. He's the kind of perfectionist who is never satisfied with anything less than breaking his own records, and even then he'll grumble and pull apart his own performance to list all the jumps and spins that he could have done better.

It's a constant source of amazement to Otabek that Yuri Plisetsky, who could have pretty much anyone he wanted, has chosen _him_. Sometimes, when they're miles apart, Otabek lies awake in his bed wondering if he's good enough for Yuri, and how long until Yuri casts him aside for someone better.

Not now, though. Right now, Yuri is holding Otabek tight, kissing him with an intensity that leaves no doubt as to Yuri's feelings. They're both shaking when they break apart.

Yuri pushes himself upright and is still trembling as he gets to his feet. Otabek watches him pad across the room and retrieve something from his desk, graceful even in that casual movement. Yuri's loose sweatpants are hanging low, exposing the curve of his hips and the beginning of the swell of his ass.

Otabek drinks in the sight. The whole world has seen Yuri in tight costumes that leave little to the imagination, but this is different. This is private. Nobody else gets to see this side of Yuri.

Yuri moves to stand next to the bed, hands Otabek the condoms and a small bottle of lube. His pupils are blown wide and he's breathing hard.

"We'll go slow," Otabek promises, catching Yuri's fingers between his own. "Tell me if it hurts, okay?"

He helps Yuri take off his pants and briefs, marveling once more at the long, slender lines of his body. His eyes linger on Yuri's erection, on the reddened head of Yuri's cock which is such a sharp contrast to his milky skin.

Otabek guides Yuri down on the bed with hands that are not quite steady. Yuri leans down on the pillow, tangling his hands in the sheets. Otabek takes several long breaths as he pours a large dollop of lube into his palm. No matter how much they both want this, he's not going to risk hurting Yuri. He kneels between Yuri's legs, letting the lube warm a little before sliding one slick finger to the crease of Yuri's ass.

At the first tentative press against his entrance, Yuri tenses. Otabek can see his abdominals contracting on a sharp inhale.

"Breathe out," Otabek says. It's good advice for himself as well. He can barely breathe at the sight of Yuri stretched out on the bed under him.

They haven't done this many times, but Otabek already knows Yuri's body. He knows how to curl his fingers just so, finding that spot inside of Yuri that makes him moan Otabek's name in a broken voice.

Yuri's back arches off the mattress and Otabek has to put one hand on his hip to keep him still. Inside, Yuri feels scalding hot. Otabek's fingers move slowly, in time with Yuri's labored breaths. Yuri is panting low in his throat, pressing one hand against his mouth to stifle his cries.

"Beka." His voice is a whisper, barely audible. He tries to push his hips harder against Otabek's thrusting fingers. "C'mon, I'm _ready_ …"

Otabek wants nothing better than to bury himself into Yuri's tight heat. "Not yet," he groans, leaning down to press a fleeting kiss to Yuri's lips. Yuri moans and takes his cock in hand, stroking himself. Otabek's cock, which he still hasn't touched, is leaking precome through the front of his boxers, but Otabek is not going to rush this. He promised.

Otabek stretches Yuri until his fingers are sliding in and out in smooth movements. When he withdraws, Yuri whimpers at the loss of contact. "Beka," he moans, just a hint of his bossy expression mixed with the desire in his eyes.

"I know." Otabek is almost incoherent as he shoves down his boxers. "Just– Let me–"

Yuri throws back his head, displaying the gorgeous line of his throat. One hand is wrapped around the base of his cock as his lips move in a silent plea.

Otabek is shaking so much, he almost drops the condom. He tears open the packet and rolls it on, biting back a groan at the feeling of his own hand on his cock. He knows he won't last much longer – he's already wound too tight – but he refuses to let himself come just yet. He strokes his cock roughly, just enough to coat it with lube.

Yuri puts one hand on Otabek's thigh and tugs him closer, wordlessly urging him on. Otabek settles between Yuri's spread legs, watching the flush from Yuri's face spread halfway across his chest.

It would be easier if they were in a different position, with Yuri on his hands and knees, but Otabek likes it better this way. He keeps his eyes on Yuri's face as he positions the tip of his cock against his entrance, seeking confirmation one last time. Yuri, breathless, his lips slightly parted, nods.

Otabek slides into him slowly, one torturous centimeter at a time, pausing to let Yuri catch his breath when his features contract into a grimace.

"More." Yuri exhales slowly, then he wraps one leg around Otabek's waist, digging his heel into the small of Otabek's back. The movement drives Otabek's cock even deeper into him. Inside, he's so tight and hot and perfect, Otabek can barely breathe.

Then Otabek is seated fully within Yuri, and Yuri is looking up at him from under his eyelashes, his face contorted with pleasure. Yuri's lips are red and swollen where he bit down to stop himself from crying out. Otabek leans over Yuri to kiss him, licking into his mouth, and is rewarded by a series of low whimpers.

Otabek draws back his hips, almost pulling out completely, before slamming back into Yuri. It's a good thing their mouths are locked together, so he can swallow Yuri's cry.

Otabek would tell him to be quiet but he can't, not when he needs all his concentration to keep moving. The pace that he sets is almost frantic. Yuri urges him on with half-whispers and moans. His arms are wrapped around Otabek, fingers digging into Otabek's biceps.

Even like this, covered in sweat and with his pupils blown wide, Yuri hasn't lost his customary grace. His hips move against Otabek's, greedy, taking all he has to give. Otabek is mesmerized by the shift of Yuri's body under his, how Yuri arches almost off the mattress when Otabek buries himself into him up to the hilt.

One day, Otabek thinks, he's going to have Yuri ride him, relinquish all control and let Yuri set the pace. He wonders what it would be like if they didn't have to be quiet – if he could hear Yuri scream his name without holding back.

Maybe Yuri is getting to him. Otabek already has so much, but he can't stop wanting more. Otabek's fingers close around Yuri's erection, stroking him in time with his thrusts. Yuri pulls him into a kiss, and Otabek swallows the uncontrolled moans he's making.

"Yura," Otabek whispers into his mouth. His fingers slide over Yuri's length, slick with lube and precome. Yuri bucks into his touch and without warning he comes, spilling all over Otabek's hand.

Otabek shifts, stroking Yuri to completion, murmuring nonsense against his lips until Yuri sags boneless against the pillow. Otabek pulls out slowly, and Yuri bites down a whimper.

Yuri slides his hands down Otabek's spine. His movements are still sluggish after his orgasm, but his grip is firm; he peels off the condom and wraps his fingers around Otabek's cock. The touch, Yuri's dark green eyes on him – it's too much. It takes only two strokes before Otabek comes with Yuri's name on his lips.

They end up sprawled next to each other on the narrow bed, their legs tangled together. Otabek wipes most of the come with tissues – Yuri will need to air the room and do some laundry very soon – and they lay together for a long time just breathing into the same space.

"What are you thinking about?"

Otabek reaches for his hand. "Nothing," he whispers back, tracing the lines of Yuri's palm with his thumb. "Just looking at you."

Yuri flushes, eyes darting away, and Otabek's heart does a little flip at the way Yuri is smiling.

"What about you?" Otabek asks.

"I was thinking…" Yuri's voice is barely audible, but he looks into Otabek's eyes as he speaks. "I'm so happy to be with you, here, now. I love you, Beka."

"I love you too," Otabek manages to say before pulling Yuri into a tight hug.

In that moment, he couldn't want anything more.


End file.
